


enraged by things unsaid and empty beds and bad behaviour

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety, Descriptions of Pain, First War with Voldemort, Insomnia, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Miscommunication, Unhappy Ending, Wolfstar Hurt Fest 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26083345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In the summer of 1976, Sirius discovers three things. First, soulmates are very much real, not just a hyperbole. Second, he's lucky enough to have Remus as his soulmate. Third, Remus's opinion on topics such as fate and predeterminism is not exactly compatible with the concept of soulmates.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40
Collections: Anonymous, Wolfstar Hurt Fest





	enraged by things unsaid and empty beds and bad behaviour

Sirius is sixteen years and eight months old when he walks into the dormitory to see the three boys lying on James’s bed, the man himself looking ecstatic, despite the cold flannel on his forehead, babbling about _silver linings and all that_. The door slams shut behind him and James winces. 

“I am in tremendous pain here, Sirius, show some respect!” he moans, but he’s still grinning madly, so Sirius figures he’s not _too_ badly hurt and goes to sit in the little space that’s left available. 

“Maybe it’s not Lily, it could very well be a coincidence,” Remus argues, but James is having none of that. 

“Remus. Moony. My dear friend. I would give my life for you, but please stop trying to sabotage my chance at happiness, or I will be left with no choice but to smother you in your sleep.”

_No way!_

“Merlin, Prongs, did you finally manage not to stumble over your words and ask Red out? And more importantly, did she lose her sanity and actually _agreed_ to it?” 

James winces again. 

“Ah, well, not long until that blessed day now! She’s only gone and got herself in the way of a misfired spell, so she’s painfully regrowing her foot bones in the hospital wing. Terrible business and believe me, I would be at her bedside all night if she allowed me to,” he explains with his hand over his heart. “The one good — no, the one _excellent_ — part of this is that my head is absolutely killing me,” he finishes, looking at Sirius as if that’s somehow meant to make perfect sense. 

As far as Sirius is concerned, James might as well have told him he’s discovered how to grow Exploding Butter Beans out of his ears, for all the sense it makes. 

“Uh. James. My dearest friend. My brother in all but blood. Did you perchance fall off your broom and lose whatever couple of marbles you had left floating around in there? Were you cursed to talk in riddles?” 

Judging by his mates’ various degrees of bewilderment at his question, Sirius might be the odd one out in not understanding whatever the fuck James is on about. 

“Lily might be his soulmate,” Remus whispers, as if that’s meant to make all the sense in the world. 

Sirius laughs. “His what? I know he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic when it comes to Evans, but fairytales? Would’ve thought you grew out of them.” 

“What the fuck, Sirius,” James exhales quietly, no longer smiling, but looking genuinely hurt. 

“Sirius, _fairytales_ , really!” Peter says disbelievingly.

Sirius just gapes at him. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t know about _soulmates_!”

He’s come to the conclusion they’re pulling his leg, but Peter takes another look at him, eyes still as wide as saucers, and keeps on talking. 

“Fairytales obviously exaggerate things, but the concept is very much real, just trickier to be sure, since not everyone feels it the same, eh? Assuming Evans truly is Prongs’s soulmate —”

“Oi! No need to _assume_!”

“— that means whenever she gets physically hurt, regardless of where _she_ hurts, James gets a headache, like now. As I said, close enough to _fairytales_ , but not as dramatic, no actual _dying ‘cause you’re too far away from one another_ and all that bullshit. Just like… if you break your arm, your soulmate feels like _their_ arm is broken, or whatever, it depends on the person,” he shrugs and leans back on his elbows. 

Sirius thinks he must be doing an excellent impression of a fish out of water as he stares at Peter and then James and then Remus and then back at Peter, looking for hints that they’re having him on. They all look earnest. Excellent acting on everyone’s behalf, really, they’ve improved tremendously, even Moony’s stopped his excessive blinking. _Might as well humour them, then._

“Alright then, soulmates, yeah? Well, then why is this only coming up now?” he asks. “Like, if this isn’t a bunch of shite then why aren’t girls tripping over who’s their soulmate and even you, Prongs, why haven’t you mentioned it before?” 

“Well, I mean… it’s just really a bit of a sensitive topic, it’s a part of your soul, revealing it makes you vulnerable. Or at least that’s what mum says,” Peter responds again, squirming, his cheeks having gone the faintest pink.

“Mm. And mate, James always drones on about Lily being his soulmate,” Remus adds with a small laugh. 

“Plus, some people do talk about it, it’s not just me _droning on_ , Moony!” James chimes in before sticking his tongue out at Remus. “You must’ve heard them, even I said many times Evans must be _the one_ , what did you think I meant?” 

Sirius isn’t fully convinced they’re not taking the piss, but James is right, he _has_ heard people mention it and he does know of some of the stories, it’s practically impossible _not to_ , really, but he’s always shrugged everything off as hyperbolical and cheesy. 

“I’m serious — no, stop right there with that — have a look in the library, there’s books on it, like actual in-depth books,” James adds. “Now, let’s go back to planning my wedding, if you don't mind, you’ve kind of interrupted my intense daydreaming.”

Later that night, Sirius sneaks into the library, wearing James’s cloak over his pyjamas, too curious to wait until the morning. He’s not entirely sure where to start looking, but figures the Healing Charms and Draughts section might offer some insight if it’s got to do with pain. He’s browsing the bookshelves more or less randomly when he stumbles upon a small volume called _A Very Brief Look Into the Physical, Physiological and Psychological Manifestations of the Soul Link_ , which he slips in his pocket. 

Minutes later, Sirius is sitting atop of Gryffindor Tower, reading under the soft wandlight, slightly disappointed by the book he chose, which is proving to be rather unhelpful for his purpose. True to its title, it’s a _very brief look_ indeed, mainly focusing on the art of healing when one’s soulmate is cursed or hurt, rather than any historical or social implications of having a soulmate or the whys and hows of the link forming. Kind of his fault for picking that one, anyway, but it’ll do for now. 

_...presumed to be ancient magic by T. Ardent..._

_...ways of predicting or detecting one’s soulmate are still extremely rudimentary and unreliable…_

_...no way of treating the link-induced pain…_

_...while the link can be temporarily severed by_ Disvinculum Draught _(see p32 for advice on dosage), it is not recommended to do so for a prolonged period of time…_

_...no long-lasting physical effects, leaving the psychological toll of severe, prolonged pain as the most dangerous consequence of the link..._

It’s not long before Sirius closes the book and pockets it, intending it on returning it the following day. He heads back to the dorm and barely remembers to down this week’s vial of his pain potion, wincing at its sourness, before he crashes into bed. His head is swimming with all that he’s read and not quite processed yet, and it’s all exhausting and confusing enough that he might actually sleep tonight. Lucky him. 

Words from the library book are floating behind his eyelids and he’s replaying the boys’ explanations over and over, getting closer to falling over the edge of unconsciousness, when a certain phrase washes over him like a freezing river. 

His eyes shoot open and he’s left staring at the pillars of his bed, quietly panicking, until dawn breaks. 

_Fuck_. 

Sirius is sixteen years and ten months old when he’s sitting in his room cloaked in darkness, having claimed that he was feeling particularly tired that day, managing to avoid suspicious looks from James. The full moon is minutes away and he finds himself unable to breathe properly from the anticipation — or perhaps it’s merely the righteous anger coursing through him the more he thinks about soulmates. He isn’t exactly _keen_ on letting anyone dictate any part of his life, much less so something as important as who he’s meant to love or spend his life with. Just because someone or something — as if he believes in something as silly as fate — threw some dice and assigned him a soulmate, that doesn’t mean he’s just gonna sit there obediently and just say _okay_ and roll with it. 

_Maybe last month was a coincidence_ , he thinks, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths and untwist the knotted wire in his stomach. A side-effect of having stopped taking the potion so abruptly. He remembers reading somewhere it can be dangerous to go off medication before consulting with —

_Merlin’s slimy feet._

Not a coincidence, then. 

Sirius grabs the pillow from under his head and bites it to muffle the cries that are threatening to escape. The pain is unspeakable, almost as bad as Mother’s worst, and for a moment he wishes he hadn’t stopped taking the blasted potion. He feels the magic crackling inside him, sending lava hot sparks down every inch of his body. He can’t move and he can’t breathe and he can’t think. 

He’s not sure how long he lays there for, his mind only focusing on not letting out any sounds, but the pain retreats minutely and he no longer feels like his whole body is burning. He chances a look at the clock on the wall — it’s only been a few minutes; he’s not sure he can make it through the night without alerting anyone if the intensity increases again. 

Through his hazy mind, he remembers last month, when the worst of it was at the start and then it had become manageable. He’d passed out not long after. Maybe he’ll be lucky enough to pass out this time, too, he thinks, biting down on the soft pillow again and swallowing a whimper. At least Mother won’t be there again to find him curled up and scream her head off, but he’d rather not worry the Potters if he can help it. 

An idea comes to him and he almost wants to laugh with relief — how could he have forgotten? 

_Breathe, breathe, breathe._

Sirius closes his eyes and transforms, whining softly at the immediate relief coursing through him. 

He spends the rest of the night curled as a dog, still aching, but the pain isn’t sharp and unforgiving any longer. He transforms back as soon as he no longer feels the echo of the pain and passes out from the exhaustion barely a few moments later.

“Merlin’s pants, Sirius, you look terrible!” 

“And here I was, calling you my friend for all these years,” Sirius replies weakly and tries to put on his best offended face as he sits at the dining table and pours himself a glass of juice. “Couldn’t sleep well.”

It’s not a lie, _per se_ , and James simply nods and digs into his pancakes, well accustomed by now to Sirius’s bouts of sleeplessness. 

Sirius rushes through his breakfast and excuses himself back to his room. His head feels like it’s spinning and it’s only partly because of the exhaustion and the dull ache running through his body. 

_It must be Remus_. 

There’s all sorts of possibilities. Maybe it’s someone whose period is synced up with the full moon and _extremely_ regular. He doesn’t know enough about periods to say whether that can or can’t be right. He _does_ know enough to tell they probably don’t feel like they’re literally dying when it happens. Plus, these two months it happened suspiciously close enough to the exact time of the full moon rising.

Maybe another werewolf, then. They’d have to be close in age to him, though, from the minimal research he’s done — larger age gaps do happen, but the link doesn’t form until well into adulthood in those cases.

_Yeah, there’s a lot of teenage werewolves running around, you twat._

It must be him. 

Sirius sits down in the middle of the bed, pulling his knees to his chest. It’s a bit silly, having such a crisis over nothing. Remus is his friend. He’s one of his best friends. He’d die for him. And now it turns out he’s his soulmate, too. The issue is that, as far as he knows, soulmates are understood to be romantic more often than not and Sirius doesn’t think of Remus _like that_. He doesn’t think of anyone _like that_. 

Well. His hormones are running wild, it’s the age, and he’s been noticing more and more good-looking people lately — Remus included, obviously — but he doesn’t see himself looking for a _life partner_ anytime soon; he’s not even seventeen yet, for Godric’s sake. His relationship ideals are currently more of the “let’s make out and hang out and listen to music and talk tosh” type and less of the “wedding vows and charms” type. 

Admittedly, it is rather wonderful that it is Remus rather than, God forbid, Snivellus, and he really wouldn’t mind it that much were it not for the principle of it. Also, in all fairness, he _is_ dying to know what Remus thinks of this, if he’s felt anything from Sirius’s side, if he’ll feel _obligated_ to make a move or expect that from Sirius, if they’re meant to _try_ anything, if they can just carry on with their lives and see what happens. His thoughts are spiraling, endless scenarios playing over and over in his head and he forces himself to take a deep breath and start counting the dots on the wallpaper, leaning back against the pillows. _Breathe. You'll see him soon enough and then you'll know._ His rough all-nighter has taken its toll on him more than his usual insomnia and he soon manages to calm down enough for his eyes to close. _Being quite mature for this, really, all things considered_ is his last thought before sleep washes over him. 

_Well, fuck_ , he thinks only a few days later. There’s that for _maturity_ and _averting crises._

It’s been less than two months since he’s seen Remus, and he’s quite sure nothing has _actually_ changed about him. Maybe he’s grown an inch or two, but his eyes somehow look more intense than he’s ever seen them. Which is silly. Eyes don’t change. Unless you spell them a different colour, and even then it only lasts for a few hours, but that’s beyond the point. 

No, it’s not a spell. Maybe it’s just the intense seaside sun reflecting differently, bringing out golden specks in Remus’s otherwise forest green eyes and littering his skin with freckles. It could also be the newfound information painting him in a different colour in Sirius’s eyes and really, Moony’s stayed the very same, it’s just Sirius’s brain playing tricks on him. 

It’s probably a bit of both, Sirius concludes, after spending the entire afternoon making eye contact with Remus much more often that necessary. 

“You’d think you would’ve been a great tit instead of a stag, with how you stumble over your words, I’m not — AAAAH” is all that Peter manages before James tackles him. 

Sirius is sitting by Remus’s side on the beach, barefoot, both laughing at their friends wrestling each other just a few metres ahead, the sea lapping around their ankles. He’s twiddling his thumbs in his lap and twiddling his thoughts, too, going round and round in his head, wondering how Remus will react when he tells him. 

“Moons,” he starts, not quite sure of how to say it. Simply blurting it out doesn’t seem like the best way, somehow.

He keeps his eyes locked ahead to where Peter has admitted defeat and him and James are just floating lazily in the waves, but he can see Remus turning his head slightly out of the corner of his eye. 

“I know you lot said it was a rather personal topic, but I mean, we’re friends, right?”

“We are. Is this about soulmates?”

Sirius doesn’t even have it in him to pretend he’s surprised that Remus knows that.

“Yes. I just… what do you think about it?” 

The silence stretches on for a moment _too_ long, enough for Sirius to almost say _don’t worry, forget I asked_ , but Remus is speaking again. 

“You’re right, it is an _extremely_ personal question, but I guess you don’t really know what boundaries are.” He smiles and Sirius lets out a small offended huff that Remus ignores and continues talking, a slight edge to his voice. 

“I have thought about it, moreso over the summer, since James’s headache, you know. I’ve come to the conclusion that for me, the whole thing is entirely irrelevant, but I understand why it’s such a big deal for other people.” 

_Oh. So that's how it is._

Sirius hums and turns to look at Remus, whose cheeks are the faintest pink, but he keeps his gaze on Sirius. For what it's worth, Sirius doesn’t disagree with the notion that you should be in charge of your own destiny, and really, to think of it, it’s no surprise Remus is of the same opinion, what with his _furry problem_ and his determination not to let it take over his life completely. 

“Do you not wonder who your soulmate is?” Sirius asks, breaking eye contact for one moment, distracted by the sun rays filtering through Remus’s windswept hair, without stopping to think why that question might be a bad idea.

“No. I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter who my soulmate is, I know what I want,” Remus replies, and looks at Sirius with such a soft expression that it gives him a terribly odd feeling, like he can’t see the forest for the trees somehow. Before he can make any sense of it, Remus shakes his head and speaks again. “Why are you asking? Have you discovered any clues over the summer?” 

Sirius hesitates for a moment before speaking. He could tell him, but Remus has just literally said he doesn't care about that. He could tell him, and Remus would probably think nothing of it, he’d smile and say _we won’t let this change us, Padfoot, we’re always going to be friends_ , but he’s sure it _would_ change them and make them grow apart, slowly and surely, and that _would_ break Sirius’s heart. So he just laughs and elbows Remus, swallowing his disappointment. 

“Thought you were worried about boundaries and deeply personalmatters, Moony! I just wanted to know your opinion on it.” 

It is the truth, to be fair, even if a little bit incomplete. It is also not answering Remus’s second question, but he doesn’t press it. Instead he laughs, too, and gets up, dragging Sirius into the sea to join James and Peter, who have rekindled their furious splashing and poor attempts at sacrificing one another to the Great Kraken.

Sirius is twenty-one years and three months old when he fucks it up. It’s taken a few more years that he thought it would, but fewer than he’d hoped. They’re celebrating Lily’s birthday at the Potters, just the five of them and baby Harry, and Sirius is getting a bit too drunk and a bit too loud as the night grows darker and the rain falls heavier. 

Lily’s just saying she’d definitely want more children, maybe a baby sister for Harry, and James is complaining, _maybe next year, it’s much too painful for us both_ , and Sirius laughs and suggests taking Disvinculum. After all, it’s allowed in small doses and in certain situations. He gets a pillow to the head for daring to suggest a temporary link break. 

“Or, you know, transform into Prongs, doesn’t it help? You would have to miss the actual event, though, unless you _are_ gonna register with the Ministry after all and…” he trails off, only realising what he said when he sees James’s wide eyes and Lily’s brows disappearing into her fringe. 

“And how would you know that, Sirius?” James asks. 

“Know what?”

Of course, Sirius’s rotten luck means that’s the moment Remus chooses to return from the loo. 

“Know nothing,” Sirius answers.

“That being in your Animagus form disrupts the soul link,” James speaks at the same time and grimaces as he realises he inadvertently shared Sirius’s slip-up with one more person — even if it’s only Moony. 

Sirius freezes and becomes suddenly fascinated by the delicate shapes cut into his glass. He feels much too aware of how loudly the rain is pattering outside and he can swear he’s able to hear the crackling of the candles. 

“Who _doesn’t_ know that, Prongs?” Peter laughs, breaking the weird silence. “I thought we all read the same books on Animagi in school! I can’t remember where exactly it’s mentioned, but it’s well documented!”

That is, of course, a lie. Sirius doesn’t doubt that the information isn’t exactly _unknown_ , but it definitely doesn’t appear in anything the three of them read. He’s not going to contradict Peter, though, and he laughs. 

“Leave him be, Wormy, his memory is probably affected by all the headaches.”

Predictably, James flicks him the v’s and with that, the atmosphere doesn’t seem as tense anymore. Sirius thinks he definitely needs to get Peter a very nice gift for his birthday and he gives him a quick nod. Remus and Lily laugh too, but as Sirius sneaks a look at everyone’s expression, it’s clear they only bought Pete’s shoddy excuse out of kindness and an unwillingness to force Sirius to talk about an uncomfortable topic. 

A couple of hours later, Sirius and Remus say their goodbyes and walk outside the range of the numerous protection spells surrounding James and Lily’s house, where Remus grabs his hand and turns on the spot. Once they’re back inside their flat in Brixton, Sirius picks up a Muggle magazine and starts flicking through it while Remus makes them both tea and sits down — at the dining table, not next to him on the settee — attempting to solve the daily crossword. Attempting, or more like staring at it unseeingly and twirling the pencil around his fingers for long enough that the tea grows stone cold and Sirius’s whole body tenses with anxiety. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” he asks when he can’t take the silence anymore, thick between them ever since they left the Potters’, his nose twitching at the stupid phrase. 

“Hmm?” is all he gets back and figures he should know better than to push it, but then he almost never knows better. 

“Is there something wrong?” 

Remus shifts to look at him, his face carefully composed and not actually showing much. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just find it amusing that it looks like you _are_ feeling the link, and it's bad enough that you actually have to transform and sever it, but you’ve just been lying to your friends about it,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“Of course I’m feeling it, I stopped taking that goddamned potion years ago, didn’t I? I never lied, just because you didn’t ask, that’s a wholly different story! And anyway, I fail to see what there is to talk about, especially with friends that say they couldn’t give a doxy’s arse about it,” Sirius snaps and Remus does a double take at that. 

“Wait, what? We do care, Sirius, just because I have a different opinion than —”

“Not what I remember you saying.” 

Remus scrunches his eyebrows together. He’s making Sirius want to press his thumb there and smooth over the lines. Instead of that, he rolls his eyes and sighs, his voice taking on an exasperated tone. 

“Oh, come on, when I first asked you about it, that summer after I ran away from home, you called it _entirely irrelevant,_ if my memories are correct — and they are — so why should I have come to you, hmm? I can ignore it on my own just as well and you’ve made your views crystal clear.” 

He’s not lying, in all fairness, but he’s not being entirely truthful, either. Some things never change. His fingernails dig into his palm as the guilt of keeping such a big secret envelops him. 

_It’s easy enough for you to demand honesty when you’re unaware of how it would break us,_ Sirius wants to say. 

“No, I actually barely remember that conversation, in spite of popular belief, I don’t memorise anything and everything —”

 _You_ ’ _re blinking too much_ , Sirius wants to say. 

“— and anyway, my point still stands: my opinion on _my_ soulmate or lack thereof doesn’t influence _you_ , I’m not an arrogant twat who thinks their perspective is _the_ perspective…” Remus trails off, clenching his jaw as he probably realises he’s being unnecessarily unkind.

Sirius, however, feels quite proud of how well _he_ is keeping it together. On the outside, at least. 

_Please stop, this will end with us hurting each other,_ he wants to say. 

“Thank you for the clarifications, Remus, they were quite unnecessary,” he replies instead, clumsily. 

Remus ignores him. When he does speak, it’s in a much quieter voice and his words are too formal and cold. “Sirius, look. I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s no one’s business but yours and your soulmate’s, it’s not right of me to prod like this.” He runs his hands through his hair and gets up, heading towards his room. 

It occurs to Sirius then, for the hundredth time in the past few years, that he _could_ come clean and that maybe it wouldn’t, in fact, jeopardize their… friendship. Friendship with the occasional drunken shag, complete with unrequited pining on Sirius’s behalf and indifference on Remus’s; that’s too long of a name for whatever they’ve got going on. He speaks without quite meaning to, fueled by the buzz of the firewhiskey and tired of guarding his secrets so closely.

“It’s your business, too, then.” 

Remus’s back is turned to him, but Sirius still sees his body tense up, his hand hovering in mid-air, just above the doorknob. He turns around and looks at a spot past Sirius’s shoulders as he speaks. 

“I… I am well aware of that.”

Sirius doesn’t consider himself to be a _particularly_ eloquent man, but he can usually at least reply with some sort of coherency instead of whatever weird jumbled sounds have just come out of his throat. His thoughts are mushy and beige as he processes what Remus said, what Remus meant, and how he was most likely fucking everything up by not actually replying. He forces himself to speak. His head is reeling. 

“What the fuck. When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell me? Moony, for Godric’s sake, what do you mean?”

Remus shrugs, pulling at the sleeve of his jumper. _Don’t do that_ , Sirius wants to say. _You’ll pull the thread and unravel it and it’s your favourite and you’ll lose it and you’ll regret it_. 

“It’s been a few years. Just after that time you got Confounded and flew your broom into the stands. Figured you must have known and not said anything and then just… started chugging some Disvinculum on the full moons. I expected it was rather hard to miss with the whole werewolf thing going on, hmm?”

“It wasn’t your decision to ta—” Sirius winces and swallows his words as he realises the utter hypocrisy. 

“Mm. It doesn’t have to change anything, you know,” Remus shrugs again, his tone questioning, finally looking directly at him.

It does, though. It absolutely does change everything and they both are aware of it. As far as Sirius knows, Remus’s opinions on soulmates haven’t changed, and if he knew all along _and_ suspected Sirius knew, too, then it can only mean Sirius’s fears weren’t unfounded — Remus was happy with the status quo and saw no reason to change it. He doesn’t want any of the things Sirius does, regardless of the existence of a soulmate link, and he never did. Remus’s words from what seems like a lifetime ago float through his mind, making much more sense in hindsight. _It doesn’t matter who my soulmate is, I know what I want_. It was never Sirius. He can live with that. 

Remus is still looking at him expectantly, eyebrows raised, still toying with his sleeve and Sirius remembers he didn’t actually reply. He feels like he’s crumbling as he puts on a fake, warm smile and nods in agreement, maybe a bit too excitedly. 

“It doesn’t change anything,” he agrees and watches Remus nod back and turn around to walk into his bedroom, letting the door slam behind him. Sirius walks to his own bedroom and sits down on the windowsill, hugging his knees. He sniffles and thinks he should pick up some Pepper-Up Potion. 

Sirius is twenty-one years and eleven months old when he finds himself looking out of the window to his — their? — flat again, still as cold and miserable. Things haven’t changed _that_ much, truth be told. Remus still lives there, or at least has his things there, dropping by every now and then, avoiding Sirius if he can, smiling politely and making empty chit-chat if he can’t. He looks tired and half-alive most days, side-stepping any interrogative questions with a slight smile and an I _wish I could tell you_ , floating further and further away from all of them every day. He’s distant and mild-mannered and quiet and so unlike the Remus Sirius _knows_ and loves and it’s all making Sirius feel like they’re acquaintances at best. 

Alright, maybe things have changed a fair bit.

For what it’s worth, Sirius isn’t as self-absorbed as he is often accused of. He’s not one to think it’s solely his doing, to think it was him who pushed Remus away and led to this, but he _has_ played his part. If he made different choices earlier in life, maybe this wouldn’t have happened, maybe they would have grown apart earlier, before he had a chance to betray them all. Or maybe they would have grown closer, like they were meant to. Or whatever. 

_No, he never did want that._

He can’t know, he’ll never know what could have been, but he can try to fix it. 

He gets up and walks to Remus’s room, about to start chucking his belongings out in the hallway and blast them with a Shrinking Charm straight into a box to be left on the doormat for Remus to find. It’s a kindness of which he is undeserving after all his spying and lying and sneaking around, Sirius thinks, but only goes as far as pointing his wand at a pile of clothes before he stops. As far as he knows, Remus is aware Sirius is suspicious, but not more so of _him_ in particular than of anyone else in the Order; if Sirius plays his cards right, then Remus can give away all the secrets he wants and it won’t make a lick of difference. 

He closes the door to Remus’s room and puts his boots on. He’s got a proposal to make to Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to my betas for their help, support and encouragement and to the mods for organising such a wonderful fest!
> 
> Check out the rest of the works [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/WS_Hurt_Fest/works)!


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